I am incredibly fortunate. God has filled my life with great tragedy and triumph. I will try to be as nonchalant as possible about this.

I discovered my grandparents as my mother fell into postpartum depression and then divorced my father. I found Debell, Walker, Erskine, Wright. They were there through divorce, moving, depression. I loved dearly Kimberly, to whom I also owe my life for saving me from my own suicide... or rather, being there when I saved myself after a long string of desparate cries through self-mutilation. Now, my life is filled with caring from both my peers and parentals. I've balanced out being beaten and molested with being showered with affection. My constant craving for nurturance has led me down the road of starving for salvation, and I am constantly lifted up again.

I will never be good enough. NEVERnevernever. I always need to hurt myself, make myself more worthy of what I want. This is terrible, but I just want to be loved, and until I find myself deserving, I will keep on hurting myself. The emotionial and physical abuse I have suffered at the hands of myself and others is staggering at best. I have not been taught to do things half-assedly. That's bullshit and I know it.

SAVE ME.

the weekend is a beastly thing with tentacles.